Hits: Bad Habit Outtakes
by AmeryMarie
Summary: Outtakes, alternate POV's and AU one shots from Bad Habit: Book One and, eventually, Bad Habit: Book Two-New Habits. Mostly E/B, but other pairings likely. Mature content intended for adults only.
1. Chapter 1 Sin So Well

**Disclaimer: **All recognizable characters and storylines belong to S. Meyer. The manips and other crap is all mine.

**A/N: **This was my contribution to Ninapolitan's Smut Mondays over at Twi'd on 1-2-10. Thanks go to Nina for letting me participate in SM, my Beta V and the LoD for prereading for me, especially Em who did a final read through for me and made some suggestions that were really useful.

This is an outtake from the next chapter of Bad Habit that just won't fit. Pixiekat, this is for you.

Hope everyone enjoys.

The song used is Sin So Well by Rebekah.

**Sin So Well**

_Bellaaaaa.._.I dreamt of him breathing my name against the shell of my ear, strong, slightly rough hands running up and down my side, drifting forward every few passes to ghost over the side of my breast. His scent permeated my dreams, surrounding me in a delirium-inducing fog. As I gradually awoke, I was certain I could feel the warm length of him pressed tightly against my back. Drifting back to reality, I jolted to full awareness with a soft gasp as I realized that there was indeed someone in my bed with me. A hand tightened on my hip, preventing me from getting up.

"_Shhhhhh,"_ he soothed. "It's only me, Bella."

I relaxed instantly. "What are you doing here?" I asked sleepily, snuggling into his body. It wasn't very often I was able to lay in his arms, and I sighed in contentment as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him…

And then I remembered our fight.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I shouted, jerking away from him and out of his arms so violently that I ended up on the floor beside my bed in a heap of tangled limbs and blankets.

_Well, there goes my dignity, _I briefly thought to myself, followed by a silent snort because, really, I was worrying about my dignity? When it came to Edward Cullen, I had given up having any dignity months ago. Still, I could have tried to regain some, or at the very least _acted_ like I had some…but did I? NOOOOO! Not me. I had to go all spoiled-brat-girly-girl and throw a shit fit. I huffily attempted to sort my arms and legs from the blankets twisted around them but, in my tizzy, it only resulted in me becoming more entwined. Strong arms unexpectedly wrapped around my waist as Edward reached into the Gordian's knot I had seemingly created, plucking me out and sitting me on my bed.

Easy.

As.

Pie.

_Jerk._

Furious, I glared at him while he just stood there, smirking down at me without a care in the world.

_Cocky jerk,_ I amended.

"What the hell are you doing here, Edward? And while we're discussing it, how the hell did you get in here? The front door was dead-bolted."

He continued smirking at me, his eyes skimming along the length of my body—starting at my feet—causing the corners of his mouth to lift. By the time his eyes were back on mine, his smirk had become a full blown grin, making him look so fucking…just, wow…that I lost my train of thought for a minute. _Fuck me, he really was beyond gorgeous._

"What the hell are you smiling about?" I snapped at him, simultaneously reminding myself that I was angry with him and trying to distract myself from how beautiful he was…_and the bad things I wanted to do to him…and him to do to me_.

His smile widened. "You're cute…no, stunning…no, both. You are somehow, impossibly, both cute and stunning when you're angry. It's incredibly alluring, Isabella."

As he spoke, his eyes dropped down to my chest—where my nipples were plainly visible through the thin material of my camisole. I was suddenly very aware of my lack of clothing…and the very close proximity of Edward…and the fact that we were entirely alone in my house…and would be for hours. He looked up at me, cocking an eyebrow, and then dropped his eyes once again, bringing my attention to the fact that my nipples had drawn up into tight little buds. With an angry exhalation of breath, I crossed my arms over my chest, cutting off his view. The expression on his face slipped into the cutest little pout for just a moment and I struggled to keep from laughing.

He looked like I had just taken away his favorite toy…and, just like that, I remembered not only _that _I was mad at him, but _why _I was mad at him. My anger came back full force—I was livid. _Fuck him and his gorgeous fucking face…oh, his face when we fuck… _Focus! I hopped up, so intent on covering myself with the robe that was draped over my desk chair—directly behind Edward—that I completely forgot about the pile of blankets on my floor. Forming a big loop, my duvet had folded back on itself so that when I stood, one foot landed on the two ends of the loop, pinching it closed.

My right foot swung forward, catching the loop end and sending me straight to the ground. Hard. At least, that's what should have happened, _would_ have happened if there was anything like fairness in the world…but there wasn't. Doucheward was in front of me. Instead of landing on the floor—which would have been preferable to the gloating I just knew he was going to engage in for having to rescue me yet again—I slammed into his chest. Hard.

"Careful there, Bella!" His voice was gruff, and I could feel his words rumble pleasantly through my body because my chest—nipples still poking out like two built-in divining rods pointing the way to the source of the world's best orgasms—was pressed against his firm, cotton covered one.

The tension in the room—that I had so far been able to successfully keep at bay through my anger—was suddenly so thick in the air that it felt as if I was underwater. We took matching, ragged breaths, prompting me to move my eyes from his chest to his face. It was with a strange detachment that I noted the darkness of his eyes and the tenseness of his jaw. _Not feeling so Goddamn pleased with yourself now, are ya? Asshat. _Of its own accord, my hand reached up to his face and softly stroked the hinge that was practically vibrating from the force with which he was clenching it with.

Before I could remove my hand, Edward grasped it in one of his and, looking me in the eyes, brought it to his lips and kissed the palm. He trailed his lips up a bit and repeated it, kissing the inside of my wrist. And then the jackass had to go and ruin things.

"I'm sorry. I…"

I snatched my wrist away and brushed past him. Yanking my robe off the chair, I slipped my arms into the sleeves before hastily and haphazardly wrapping it around me and securing it with the belt. I kept my back to him as I made my way to my bedroom door and held it open, indicating the opening with a jerk of my head.

"You need to leave. Now. You're not welcome here. Ever. In fact, if Charlie comes home and finds you here, he's gonna flip his lid." I was taunting him childishly, but he knew it was true—there was no love lost between the two. _Try getting out of _that_ with one of your snappy comebacks,_ I thought, not quite able to keep the look of smug satisfaction off my face as I pictured Charlie catching him in my room.

"The Chief's working graveyard all week. He won't be home until around nine tomorrow morning."

_How did he…? Nice try, but not gonna fly._

"Well, he'll be driving by to check on me. Won't be too happy to see your car in the drive at—" I glanced at the clock beside my bed, "—eleven at night. Might even arrest you. Breaking and entering is a felony, you know? I think the medical program at the U frowns on those. You probably don't want to get one if you plan on finishing medical school. So, you should go."

"I parked at Jazz's house. His parents are out of town and he and Rose are at my house for the night. I'm not stupid; this isn't the first time I've snuck into a girl's house, Bella."

His words pushed the button, detonating the bomb. I saw red. Realizing what he had so smugly said, Edward's eyes nearly popped out of his head and his jaw dropped open. Sputtering, he searched for the correct sequence of words that would deactivate the live warhead currently counting down in front of him. It was actually quite comical, and I would have laughed had I not been enraged beyond belief. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

As soon as he could manage to get words to come out of his mouth, he immediately started backpedaling. "I didn't mean…Bella, that's not…I wasn't implying…fuck!" he said, inching his way slowly towards me, his hands held up in front of him, palms out. When he was close enough, he reached for my hands.

_Wrong move, buddy._

I slapped his hands away from me and exploded. "Don't you dare fucking touch me, you bastard, especially not when your hands have been on that fucking whore. I mean, I get that you don't owe me any kind of explanation…after all, I'm nothing to you. I'm just the girl…_a _girl you like to fuck on occasion. I get it, I really do, but we had an agreement. We may not have been exclusive, per se, but we agreed to stop fucking if either of us decided to fuck someone else.

"Stupid me—I actually believed you would honor our agreement. How naïve could I be? What, was I not enough for you, Edward? Was I not satisfying you and you had to go get it elsewhere? Fine, whatever…but why keep up the charade with me if you weren't happy with our arrangement?

"Funny thing is--I could almost, if not forgive you, then at least get over the fact that you lied to me and have been fucking someone else on the sly since the first time we…since we…since that day in the woods. Granted, I still wouldn't be fucking you ever again, but I could have gotten over it and…maybe even…eventually…one day it would have been possible to be around you without wanting to smash your face in.

"But Jessica Stanley? Seriously? Jessica? Do you have any idea what your two little fuck-buddies said to me?"

His head snapped up and he interrupted me. "Two of them?" he asked, looking curiously perplexed.

I rolled my eyes. _Way to pretend to be innocent, but don't you think you're overdoing it a bit? _ "Yeah, Jessica and Lauren, Edward. What, are you fucking so many girls that you can't keep track of them all?" I scoffed angrily before continuing on.

"It was shocking enough to hear that you were fucking that trampy little lemming, but to hear about it from her and Lauren…well, it didn't feel very fucking good. I didn't even know the two of them were speaking again, let alone having threesomes with you…guess the joke's on me. The shit those two bimbos said was—enlightening. You are scum, Edward. You are seriously a complete scumbag, waste of space, piece of shit and I don't want to see or speak to you ever again!

"After everything Lauren did to me—hell, she drugged you, but I guess you got a blowjob out of it, so…whatever—but after everything she did to me, you actually hooked-up with her and still claim to be my friend? I understand that every guy wants to participate in a threesome, but I'd be willing to bet that it wasn't your first time at that rodeo, cowboy. How can you even look yourself in the mirror? You disgust me."

I was aware that I was coming off as an irrational girl—screaming at him all psychotically—but I just couldn't seem to stop myself. I was Mount Vesuvius, vitriol erupting from my mouth in huge bursts of molten hot lava. I got it all off my chest, and as soon as I had expelled all the anger that had been simmering inside me for days and my tirade ended…I promptly burst into tears. I expected him to leave—most of the guys I had known over the years were squeamish about tears—but Edward Cullen wasn't most guys, never had been, and it wasn't the first time he had ever seen me cry. So he didn't leave, but he also wasn't willing to leave me be.

He immediately spoke. "What the fuck did they say to you Bella, and why the fuck would you believe them?"

I looked at him incredulously. _Really? _Why the fuck wouldn't I believe it when I heard someone discussing fooling around with him? After all his dalliances that I had been witness too?_ Of all the fucking nerve… _I sucked in a deep breath, prepared to go off again—

"Okay, stupid question. Whatever. For the record though, I didn't sleep with either of them."

I rolled my eyes and snorted, "Right, Edward."

His eyes blazed and he threw his hands in the air. "What the fuck do I have to do, Bella? What the fuck do I have to do to get you to believe me? I. Didn't. Fucking. Touch. Either. Of them. I wouldn't touch them with Rose's dick. I swear to fuck. I haven't touched anyone other than you since we our deal was brokered."

Dropping to his knees, he splintered before me. His eyes bored into mine, imploring, begging, saying the things that he couldn't give voice to. It was a strained moment, both of us as emotionally raw as we had ever been in front of each other—or anyone for that matter—and it could have gone either way.

When he finally spoke again, his voice had dropped to a strained, broken whisper. "What the fuck do you want from me, Bella? I told you I couldn't do this…that I'm not cut out for this. I'm trying here, actually trying…"

All the apologies or denials in the world wouldn't have changed my mind—I expected those and was numb to them. I had simply heard too many hollow, tired, and trite ones over the years to place much stock in them, but those two barely audible, broken off words from him…_I'm trying…_cut through my defenses like a hot knife through butter.

I closed the distance between us, shutting the door to my room as I did only because my hand was still on the knob. I dropped to my knees in front of him. "You swear?" I asked through my fading tears.

…_my flesh has got control of me…_

The lost look was still there in his eyes when he looked up and answered me—"I fucking swear it, Bella."—but there was also a spark of something else there. I like to think that it was hope…maybe. Regardless, I didn't care to explore it any longer. _Not when I had better things to explore._ And maybe I was letting him off too easily, finding anything that I could latch onto that would allow me to let him off the hook. Maybe…but I couldn't find it in me to care.

…_I'm human and by nature, weak…_

I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing his face down to mine, and then I proceeded to kiss him with all the passion I could muster. It was a desperate kind of kiss—my anger and fear and self-doubt and lust and desire all blending together—but one that he returned in kind. We wasted no time with preliminaries; our need was much too great for that. His hands tore at the belt to my robe, loosening it, and then roughly shoved it off my shoulders, forcing me to lower my arms from his neck.

…_cuz humans make it hard to be so holy…_

Not able to keep my hands still, I busied them with getting his pants off. I was only able to get as far as unbuttoning and unzipping his shorts before he grabbed me by my shoulders. He roughly spun me around and pressed me back onto the pile of blankets that were still on my floor. Once I was spread out before him, he launched himself at me, attacking my puckered nipples—still hidden behind my camisole—with his whole mouth. He switched back and forth from one pinkened peak to the other, his fingers plucking whichever one wasn't being expertly played by his lips and tongue.

…_angels close your eyes to this…_

While he lost himself in my dirty pillows, I ran my hand down the muscles of his back until I reached the hem of his shirt. Slipping my fingers underneath, I explored his body as I inched his shirt…up…and up…and up…until I was unable to proceed any further without his help, I tugged on the garment and managed to gasp out, "Armssssss…up."

…_my conscience can't compete with him…_

He lifted his torso from mine--causing me to whimper from the loss--grabbed the bottom of his shirt and ripped it over his head himself. Tossing it blindly over his shoulder, his hands reached down and agitatedly attempted to tug my tank off. He had little success, and finally gave up. Slamming his lips against mine with bruising force, he growled, "Shirt…off…now!"

…_yes…_

Sexiest.

…_I'm losing…_

Fucking sound.

…_please…_

Ever.

…_forgive me…_

He pulled his lips from mine just long enough to allow me to pull my top over my head, and then his mouth was back on me—kissing my lips, leaving a trail of tiny pecks along my jaw, dragging down my throat, placing wet, sucking kisses over my belly and soft, teasing ones along my legs and the backs of my knees. His teeth nipped at my ear, tugged at my nipples, placed tormenting bites on my thighs and scraped over my still-covered sex. His tongue rasped across my collarbone, the underside of my breasts, dipped into my belly button and lapped everywhere else.

…_heaven help this tendency, it's not the way I learned to be, but being bad is such a guilty pleasure…_

The entire time his mouth moved over me, his hands roamed eagerly. He was greedy in his quest and not an inch of my flesh went unexplored. He worked me into a frenzy of molten need and white hot desire, turning me into a trembling, quivering, quaking, aching mess. I needed him inside me right the fuck now. Using my feet and hands, I managed to push his shorts and boxer briefs down his hips—grateful that I had taken care of the fastenings earlier because with the way my hands were shaking I wouldn't have been able to manage it.

…_what shall be the consequence, when all they've taught I've gone against…_

"Now…E-Edward. Can't wait…ple…ungh…!" He entered me in one thrust before I was able to fully articulate my plea.

…_and knowing all this, still I go again…_

I was so worked up and over-stimulated that I immediately clenched down on him and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Seized by an orgasm out of the blue, I couldn't even manage a moan. Edward groaned loudly when he felt me around him…_clench…release…clench…release…_but continued to forcefully drive his hips into mine, making it incredibly intense for me…_almost unbearably so._ It had never been like this between us before.

Our joining were always rife with nearly brutal carnality, but this was rough and fast even for us. We just didn't seem to be capable of slowing the manic pace. It wasn't lovemaking; it was so much more than that. It was absolution for imagined sins against the other, a reaffirmation that we hadn't lost whatever had begun between us…even if it was just a mutually beneficial agreement to provide each other with orgasms…_at least that's what we were calling it, but it felt like more to me._

Whatever label we put on it, it was both heaven and hell and pleasure of the sweetest, most torturous kind. Panting and groaning and moaning and wailing, I thrashed beneath him, meeting each hard thrust of his hips with one of my own. I was certain I would have bruises by the time we finished—or at least be incredibly sore—but I loved every minute of his rough, hard fucking. No one had ever controlled my body the way he did, and just when I thought it couldn't get any better…the boy started talking.

…_Where do I land if I fall from grace?_

"Fuck, Isabella!" I would never tire of hearing my full name roll out of his mouth when he was inside of me—it infuriated me and turned me on all at once. "What are you doing to me? God, you drive me crazy. I can't control myself when I'm around you. I can't-can't seem to g-get enough. I can't get you out of my system."

…_Will I be redeemed if I seal my fate?_

Each tortured sentence was punctuated with a particularly rough, deep thrust—and as hard as he'd been since the beginning, that was saying something, trust. He was driving the tip of his cock into my cervix with all the subtlety and force of a battering ram…but I wasn't complaining. I wouldn't be able to last much longer if he kept it up.

…_I'll do my penance and rosary… _

"God, why do I crave you when I can still taste you on my lips?" The agony that had been in his voice only moments before had been replaced with anger and he fisted a hand in my hair, pulling almost harshly and causing me to cry out. As painful as it was, there was still pleasure there, because with Edward there always was just as much pleasure as there was pain. The only variance was how much and of which one--physical or emotional.

"Why do I want you again when I'm still buried inside of you?"

…_but will you pray for my purity?_

"I feel the same way, Edward. The exact same way…oh, fuck! Shit! I'm so close. S-s-so c-close…."

…_Mama doesn't like when I sin so well…_

"God, I don't know why I can't get you out of my head, Isabella…but, God help m-me, I don't know if I really fucking want to."

…_heaven's kinda far, but I swear that when I'm cumming it's close…_

He thrust once more and I spun out control. Pleasure radiated from me in sweet, undulating waves of blissful perfection and I screamed out his name…over…and over…again…and again…until my throat was raw and my voice hoarse from it. He continued thrusting, seeking out his own release. Finally, just as the tingling throughout my body started to fade and I slowly began to regain feeling in my extremities, he found it.

His thrusts became increasingly erratic as his orgasm descended upon him. Caught in the grips of it, his hips stilled altogether when he came deep inside me. He allowed me to pull him closer so that most of his weight was rested on me, and then he claimed my lips with a sweetness that belied the fury of what we had just engaged in. Basking in the afterglow, Shorty smoked a cigarette and tweeted her friends with the news (because yes, my vajayjay had a computer and twitter account)—_Oh Em Gee! Unexpected wind storm sprung up. My screen door just got banged. Hard. Jealous?—_while my inner girly-girl giggled over the fact that we hadn't made it to my bed—only two feet to my left, his right. At least we had managed to land on the mess of blankets that were still on the floor after my earlier tumble out of bed.

I looked around the rest of my room, noting that the path we had left in the wake of Hurricane BellWard. The chair from in front of my desk was on its side in front of the door, the folded laundry I'd stacked on it was strewn across room like bits of bread, the trail marking the chair's route. I tilted my head back and looked behind me to see my alarm clock hanging by its cord from the side of my nightstand, which itself was sitting all askew. The pictures that had been sitting on top of it were on the floor—the glass on at least one frame cracked—along with various other things.

I tried to remember any loud noises or crashes occurring mid-coitus, but I couldn't recall hearing a single solitary thing. I hid the silly smile that erupted on my face against Edward's shoulder. And then I saw the state of dishabille that we were in. I bit down on my bottom lip trying to suppress the laughter threatening to spill out of me.

We had both lost our shirts amongst the ruins of my room, but the rest of our clothing was still half on. My robe clung to me via the belt knotted up belt still tied around my waist, and my barely-there pajama shorts and panties were dangling from one ankle. One leg of Edward's cargo shorts and briefs were bunched up just below his knee, while the other leg was caught on the shoe still on his foot—the result of trying to kick them off before saying fuck it—and his missing shoe was sticking out from underneath my bed. We were wrecked, my room was trashed, but with Edward still between my thighs, I couldn't care less—I was in a happy place.

Once he caught his breath, Edward moved to roll off of me. I wrapped my arms and legs around him tighter and whined, "Nooooo…too soon. Not yet."

His chuckle vibrated through him in the most delicious way. "You can't be comfortable right now. I'm crushing you."

"Uh, unh. It's cozy." He settled back down on top of me, happily snuggling against me—which was so out of character for him…not that I was complaining. I refused to let reality come crashing back in just yet. I wanted to hold onto the moment for as long as he—or my bladder—would allow. _Ignorance is bliss and all that…_ All too soon, I needed to get up. "Edward…?"

"Bella…?" he replied back, his voice sounding happy and content—completely throwing me off.

"Think you could stop crushing me now?"

"I don't know. I'm pretty comfortable here. I have my own Bella-shaped mattress. You should get one." He rolled off of me, but took me with him and made no move to let go of me once he was comfortably situated. I needed to go to the bathroom, but I was afraid that if I left his side, I would come back and find him gone, or regretting all of this—and I wasn't sure which would hurt worse.

He kissed my hair and, as if he could read my mind, he softly said, "Go, Bella. I'll be here when you get back. I'm not going anywhere." Disbelief clearly written on my face, I pulled away just enough to get a good look at him. He chuckled and pulled me back to him—first smoothing and then kissing my hair again. "I promise. I'll be here when you get back."

I slipped my arms into the robe that was still tied to me as I got up, hating each and every molecule of air that came between us as I left his arms. "I'll be right back. I just need a…"

"Human moment?" he questioned, cutting me off.

I blushed slightly. "Yeah. Be right back."

…_cuz we sin so well…_

Stopping only to nap or grab food from the kitchen, we had sex three more times before morning came and Edward had to leave or risk coming face-to-face with Charlie Swan and his department-issued 9mm Beretta. Each time was progressively gentler until, by the final time—just as dawn began to break through our reverie with the promise that morning would be here soon and the reminder of his impending goodbye—he was barely moving inside me.

Our arms were wrapped around each other, with me on top, my legs circling his waist as he sat Indian-style on the floor. Our lips tangled and teased and sucked at times, while at others they just touched softly as we stared into each other's eyes. We slowly rocked against each other until the pleasure coiled in on itself, the spring tightened…more…more…more…more…and then…with soft exhalations breathed against each other's lips, blessed release claimed us.

…_lead us not into temptation…_

As the tempest died down, we clung together, trembling in each other's arms, survivors of the storm. Replete and sated, I must have slipped off to sleep in his arms, because the next thing I remembered I was being lifted on my bed and covered with a blanket. Edward pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to my lips before turning to leave. Of course, I sleepily protested his departure.

"I have to go, Bella…it's morning."

"No, no, it's still nighttime. Stay…"

…_cuz we sin so well…_

He fell onto my bed beside me, and pulled me close. "I can't stay, Juliet. Not unless you want The Chief to shoot me."

"Good point, you have to go…" I gently nudged him.

"Nope, you said it was still nighttime, so it must be true."

"Okay, Romeo—ups-a-daisy."

"Unh, uh."

"Fine…hold me for a moment, and then off you go," I sighed.

…_lead us not into temptation…_

He complied, holding me as I drifted off. I wanted nothing more than to hold him to me, take him inside me and keep him forever when I felt him leave me, but I couldn't make my limbs work. Another gentle kiss to my lips, one more on my brow and, pausing once more, he placed a final kiss on the top of my head before whispering something too softly—and sounded much too distant—for me to understand. I struggled towards consciousness as I heard him move away from my side. I made it close enough to the surface to hear him stop and say, "Oh, to answer your question from earlier, I climbed in through your window." And then he was gone.

…_oh, but what a way to go…_

For a few brief moments before sleep reclaimed me, I felt peace and contentment instead of the confusion and heartache that nearly always accompanied our tête a têtes. I knew it wouldn't last, but I held onto it for as long as I could. It was moments like this that kept me chasing the dragon, just like a heroin addict.


	2. Back Against the Wall

**A/N: ** This was the outtake I contributed to the TwiFans for Haiti compilation. It's the bar scene that has been mentioned several times throughout the story. I wrote this in both EPOV and BPOV because I could not decide which I liked best. I decided to go with BPOV it the end, but then I never found anywhere it worked. So both versions have been sitting around since last year sometime.

I had planned on combining them in some way, but I just haven't figured out how, and I don't like flipping between POV's in the same chapter very much so I am going to post them separately. Unfortunately, when my flash drive crashed in December it took the complete EPOV version with it. I only have a partial version on my hard drive, so as soon as I finish writing it, I will post it. Sorry.

Song used: _Back Against The Wall_ by Cage The Elephant.

* * *

**Back Against the Wall**

* * *

The bar was an accident. _I know, did I trip, fall, land on his dick…actually, that's not entirely farfetched when talking about me. _It shouldn't have happened; we wereboth there with other people. I was on an awkward blind date with the son of one of my father's friends and Edward was there with a group of people from med school. Okay, not quite the same thing, but you should have seen the waitress eyefucking him and it's not like I wanted to be out on a date. 

He was sitting at the bar, bullshitting with his friends and watching a game on one of the flat screens above it when we walked in. Disturbingly hyper-aware of him as ever, I noticed him right away. I flushed and had to remember to slow my breathing before I ended up hyperventilating. The last thing I wanted to do was to stay in that bar, but I had no choice. Unless I wanted to draw unnecessary attention to myself or answer a bunch of questions—neither of which I wanted—I couldn't leave. How would I even begin to explain to someone about Edward and myself?

_'Yeah, see that guy sitting there at the bar, the crazy-fuckhot one with the hair? Well, we've been having secret trysts for years and I'm in love with him, but we aren't in a relationship. We can see other people, which he does—frequently—and no matter how jealous it makes me or how much it kills me, I never say a word to him about all of the floozies he hooks up with. He, on the other hand, doesn't like seeing me with another man. He gets all possessive and tries to scare off the poor bloke unlucky enough to be out with me. Let me just apologize in advance if he tries to break your jaw or anything.'_ Hardly. That conversation would go over about as well as a lead zeppelin.

So, I sucked it up and quietly suggested to Jacob that we sit somewhere in the back. Edward hadn't noticed me yet and it was best to keep it that way. I might not have been interested in him romantically, but Jacob seemed like a really nice guy and I would have hated myself if anything happened to him because of an irrationally jealous Edward. I casually hid behind Jake as we made our way to the most secluded spot in the bar which wasn't that secluded at all, but it was in the back corner and it put Edward's back towards us. I was hoping luck would be on my side. It wasn't.

We had been there for no more than 15 minutes when the game paused for a commercial break and Edward suddenly turned in his seat. He leaned back, resting one elbow against the bar casually with his beer in one hand and his ankles crossed. Keeping him in my peripheral vision, I looked down and did my best to hide behind the Guinness I was holding. I discreetly watched him chat with his friends while I prayed that the bar was crowded enough that I would remain unnoticed...but the luck that I didn't have held.

_…tonight I'll have a look and try to find my face again…_

I was speaking to Jake, but the bar erupted in cheering some team or other scored a point and he leaned towards me. I knew that I'd been spotted the moment Edward went rigid. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for his impending wrath, but when a minute passed and he still hadn't stormed over, I forced myself to look up at him. Outwardly, he appeared the picture of ease as he continued chatting with his friends, but I'd known Edward for a long time. The tense set of his shoulders, the dents in his temple from clenching his jaw, and the cloudiness of eyes as they bored into mine all told me that he was anything but at ease.

_…buried beneath this house, my spirit screams and dies again…_

He broke our eye contact as he stood up and set his beer down on the bar, and my focus on him was interrupted as I realized Jake had asked me a question and was awaiting my answer. "I'm sorry can you repeat that, Jake? I-I just…spaced off for a sec." I laughed, an empty sound but I hoped he wouldn't notice.

He looked at me quizzically, like he suspected there was more to it than that, but let it go and smiled. "I asked if you wanted another beer."

At that exact moment, Edward caught my eye again. He was stalking towards the narrow hallway that led to the bathrooms, an angry, 'don't argue with me' look on his face that, heaven help me, caused my insides to clench—not entirely from apprehension. Hesitating for a just a beat too long to make sure I understood, he disappeared. His anger was unjustifiable and his behavior unacceptable—he had no right, none—but I knew if I didn't go to him soon he would make a scene. Jacob hadn't noticed anything, and I wanted to keep it that way.

_…out back a monster wears a cloak of Persian leather…_

"Umm...yeah, actually. Only, can you make it a Jack and Coke instead and I'll be right back? I'm just going to run to the ladies room real quick," I said with a smile as I got to my feet. He smiled back at me, nodding in affirmation, and I turned and made my way to the man lying in wait in the dimly lit hallway at the front of the bar.

_…behind the TV screen, I've fallen to my knees…_

I nervously stepped into the narrow passage not at all surprised to see him—arms crossed over his chest, his suck-able lips pursed up into a scowl—pacing back and forth by the payphone. His wait had been less than two minutes but he was nearly vibrating with agitation, his patience just about shot. Sighing loudly, he uncrossed his arms and dragged one hand through his messy hair. The other wrapped tightly around my upper arm and then I was hauled behind him into the women's bathroom.

_…I said you got me where you want me again and I can't turn away…_

He slammed me into the door, closing it with my back, and his lips crashed angrily into mine. Kissing me roughly, he reached down beside me and locked the door. My head finally caught up to my body and I returned his kiss, allowing my ire to break free; I was going to give as good as he gave. Lips mashed against each other, tongues twisting together, the kiss was violent as both of us tried to control the kiss. I shoved my hands into his hair, pulling hard as I used my grip to take control. Neither of us was going to give up easily, but I was the one pinned to the door.

Without breaking the kiss he asked, "Nice date, Bella?"

_…Blanket of silence…_

I stared at him, incredulity mixing with lust and hate and love and anger and, finally, shame.

_…makes me want to sink my teeth in deep…_

I caught his bottom lip in my teeth and bit down. Hard. Drawing blood. Edward hissed and shoved a hand in my hair. I released him with my teeth, soothing his lip with a gentle caress of my tongue, strangely not bothered at all by the coppery, salty taste of his blood. I sucked hard on his lip and released him with an audible _pop_, saying, "Best in years, Eddie-boy."

_…burn all the evidence… _

I nearly regretted my words when I saw glint of steely anger in his eyes, but I wasn't about to lose to him now.

_…a fabricated disbelief…_

"I don't like seeing you out with that mutt, Bella."

My body, traitor that it was, started to tremble, causing Edward to look at me smugly. He thrust his knee between my legs, pressing it tightly against me. When he started to move it slowly back and forth, my eyes rolled into the back of my head and my knees grew weak. I bit my lip to keep my moan from escaping and looked up at him with hooded eyes.

_...pull back the curtains, took a look into your eyes…_

"See, your body knows it belongs to me. Now your mind just needs to realize it. You are mine, Isabella."

_…my tongue has now become a platform for your lies…_

I was about to deny it…but I'm weak. I wanted this. I wanted him. I wasn't going to let my anger or my pride stop me from taking the pleasure that I wanted and knew I would get from him. Reaching between us, I grasped him through his jeans and squeezed, eliciting a low groan from him. His guard dropped for a moment and I used it to flip us so that his back was now pressed into the door.

_…now you know…_

Squeezing and rubbing, teasing him over his clothes, I stood up on my tip toes and took his earlobe between my teeth, whispering, "Who owns who now, Eddie?"

I was taunting him, playing with fire, and I knew it…I just couldn't seem to stop myself. I released his lobe, but continued speaking, driving my point home through clenched teeth. "I. Am. Not. Yours. I can do whatever, and whomever, whenever I want to. So this jealousy bullshit stops now…or this thing—with us—is over."

_…yeah, you got my back against the wall; oh, God, I ain't got no other place to hide …_

I should have unlocked the door and left him standing there—alone, in the women's bathroom, hard and panting and wanting me—but I didn't. It would have more effectively demonstrated my words, but I was just as helpless to the electricity that coursed between us as he was.

_…chained down like a sittin' duck just waitin' for the fall…_

I clenched two fistfuls of his shirt and slammed him roughly against the door. "And right now, I want you." _A girl's gotta have some dignity._

_…you know… _

And then I was unbuckling his belt, releasing the button on his jeans and tugging down the zipper. I slid his jeans and boxers down just enough to free the part of him that I desperately needed and Edward could remain passive no longer. He gained the upper hand, spinning me so that my back was against the wall to my left trapping me in the corner between the sink and the door.

_…yeah, you got my back against the wall…_

He shoved my knee length denim skirt up past my hips with a growl and then, gripping both sides of my lace panties, yanked them down my legs as he dropped to his knees in front of me. Standing up, he looked me in the eyes as he shoved them into the chest pocket of his button up just daring me to defy him. I didn't.

Never breaking eye contact, he slid his hands from my waist, over my hips, and do-o-o-w-n my thighs. Before reaching my knees, he slowed to wrap his long fingers around me and—with his chest against mine pressing me into the wall—he lifted me up. I reached between us, taking his shaft in my hand and guided him inside of me as he hooked my knees over his hips and, with one thrust, penetrated me fully.

Withdrawing nearly all the way, he thrust again and I gasped. I ground my pelvis into his as I locked my ankles behind him, bringing him impossibly further into my depths and I felt him reach bottom. Neither of us moved for a beat…and then all hell broke loose. We couldn't be gentle or slow, now was not the time for that.

We gave into the lust that wanted to consume us and there was nothing but rough strokes…in and out…in and out…bringing us inexorably closer to our release. His hands were so tight on my hips that I was certain there would be bruises later, proof that this happened, but I didn't care; let him mark me. It was only fair, I marked him.

We were soooo close. His knees buckled. He slammed one hand on the counter beside us to steady himself and—after kicking a small garbage can that was between us and the sink, across the room—he pulled me away from the wall and sat me on the edge of the counter. Bracing a hand against the stall divider on the opposite side of the sink, he leaned over me forcing me in turn to lean back on my hands. The change in angle took my breath away. I sucked in a lungful of air, raggedly gasping.

And then, almost there, we were moaning, panting, crying out as we neared the end.

_…a hand holds up the sky while shamefully I make my plea…_

"Oh, God. S'good. Ahhh! Edward, please."

"Sssssss…'please' what, Isabell-ungh!-la? Say it."

_I wouldn't, I refused to say it._

_…the altar's callin' but my legs won't seem to stand…_

Too weak to hold out..."Make me…make me c-c-cum, please!"

His thrusts became harder, faster, deeper and then waves of pleasure crashed over us.

_…guess I'm a coward, scared to face the man, I am…_

Eyes closed, head thrown back, I hoarsely cried out. "Yesssssssss, Ed-ward!"

_…I said you got me where you want me again, and I can't turn away…_

"I love y…I love yo…" My breath hitched and it had nothing to do with fireworks going off inside of me. I waited. His arms wrapped around my waist, his head buried in my shoulder—breath hot and moist on my skin—and he came inside of me. "I love…oh God, you feel so good, so fucking good, Bella. I love fucking you."

_…I'm hanging by thread and I'm feelin' like a fool…_

Pain of the acutest kind clutched my heart. I was crushed and crashing. His twisted declaration sent me plummeting from the peaks that I had just barely attained, leaving me cold. I felt empty inside.

_…I'm stuck here in-between the shadows of my yesterday…_

Still riding out his orgasm…_lucky bastard_…he gave one final thrust and shuddered. He stood up as the waves slowly ebbed, pulling me with him, but his legs were still unsteady—unable to support us—and his knees buckled. He staggered backwards, crashing his back into the door and then—still mostly wrapped around each other—we slid down it to puddle on the floor.

__

…I want to get away; I need to get away…

Sitting in his lap on a dirty bathroom floor in a bar with him softening inside me, I felt sick and used. I have to get away from him, can't have him touching me another second. His muscles were still locked down, paralyzed and powerless to stop or help my efforts. I forced his arms to release me and lift myself up on shaky legs, pushing my skirt down as I rise. I rushed inside the handicap stall to clean myself up and, as soon as door swung closed behind me, I heard Edward slide up the door.

The ripping sound of a zipper, the metallic click of the lock and the sound of the door opening and then closing again, and he was gone. Not a word. Not even a, 'Thanks for the fuck.'

_…you got my back against the wall…_

Tears prickled behind my clenched eyelids. _Stupid, stupid girl_. What did I expect though—a wedding proposal? I was nothing more than an easy lay…a quick fuck in dirty bar bathroom…a cheap whore. I didn't enjoy it.

I was confused and angry and, _God,_ did I hurt inside. Never—not once—in all our history together had Edward ever made me feel the way he just had, so why then? What had changed?

I stepped out of the stall. Splashed some water on my face and, patting my skin dry with a paper towel, I resolved to myself that our arrangement was over.

Finished.

Done.

I was through with him.

_…oh, God, I ain't got no other place to hide…_

Propping myself up with up with those words, I returned to Jacob and mumbled something about a long line—which was complete bullshit because I was the only female in the place, but he never said a word. I didn't know if he was really didn't suspect a thing or if he's just being polite, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"No worries, Bells. You weren't gone that long." _Bells? Hmmm?_ Bells. I liked it.

Maybe I could be his Bells. From the way he was looking at me, I was fairly certain that he wanted me to be his Bells…but I couldn't. I knew that. I was already Edward's Bella, sometimes his Isabella, and I would always belong to him.

_…chained down like a sittin' duck just waitin' for the fall, you know…_

I slammed back half my drink and then tilted it towards him before setting it down. "Thanks."

I caught a glimpse of Edward out of the corner of my eye. He was standing against the bar exactly as he had been before our little tête-à-tête. The only difference was that he no longer bothered to hide his mood—pissy and brooding—as he pretended to watch the TV above my head.

I finished my drink as I saw the waitress approach and asked her for a double Jack, neat. I tossed it down before she could walk away and asked for another. She raised an eyebrow at me, but didn't say a word as she headed to the bar…_and seriously, what the fuck? Could everyone other than me raise one eyebrow? _

Jake looked at me and chuckled self-deprecatingly. "That bad of a date, huh?"

Yes, it was that bad, but I smiled, trying to put him at ease because the shittiness of the date had nothing to do with him. I could feel Edward's glare boring into my back, but I ignored him. He had no right in the first place, and after what had just happened, he had even less of a right.

"No. That bad of a week." I paused, feeling like I should say something more and finally add, "Thanks for going out with me. The movie was good."

_…you got my back against the wall…_

My drink came and I sipped it this time. I wasn't sloppy yet, but I knew that there was a chance that I would be soon. I finished my second Jack and then said—a bit too loudly, but not on purpose…I don't think—the words every guy wants to hear as a date winds down, "Do you wanna get out of here?"

And if Edward's jaw clenched any more, it would have snapped in two.

"Uh…yeah, sure. You sure?" I nodded. "Let me just take care of the tab."

Another smile. "I'll meet you outside then."

Edward started to stand up, but I glare at him—_stay boy—_and he leaned back. I snagged a smoke from some dude sitting by the door, because I wanted one even though I don't smoke, and thanked him as I snagged a book of matches from his table. I had the cigarette lit before I was even outside and I stood there smoking while I waited. I exhaled the smoke from my last drag as the door opened and Jake stepped out. I dropped the butt to the ground, stomping it out as I stepped towards him and hooked my arm with his.

_…yeah, you got my back against the wall…_

I caught Edwards's eye once more before the door finally swung shut, shot him a withering look and turned on my heel, allowing Jacob to lead me out into the night and away from Edward.

~\*/~__

  
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	3. BHB2: Chapter One – Possibility: What co

**A/N:** This is what was cut from the original draft of Chapter One, BHB2. As much as I didn't like the tone and direction of this, there was some really good stuff in it. I salvaged what I could for use in the actual posted chapter, but a lot of it would have lost. I was pretty pissed off that I was losing so much stuff that I liked, so I decided to go ahead and post it for you guys. **I recommend not reading this until after you read Chapter One – Possibility.**

Please Note - This is barely edited and totally unbetaed. It was never actually meant to see the light of day, but I am apparently totally narcissistic. So with that in mind, here's what might have been….

**Chapter One – Possibility: What could have been**

~//~

Spring break was in its death throes, the mood wanting to be somber, but it was Friday night – party night – which equated to free drinks and possibly drugs, so it was hard to let it get you down.

It was late, and I had to work in the morning – not that class or work were a deterrent these days – but, rather than sleeping, I was smashed at a party at the Alpha Epsilon Pi frat house, and starting to make my way somewhere more private with the nights hookup. Walking backwards, coyly leading him towards the empty part of the house, I spotted a familiar head of hair across the room. At least, I thought I did, but I couldn't be sure…_and it wasn't possible. What were the odds of that?_

Slowed by the rum laced punch I'd been steadily drinking, I didn't self-destruct. My reaction time was so lethargic, that by the time I had registered what I may have seen, I had dismissed the notion outright, and convinced myself the it was just the 'shrooms finally kicking in. I had no time for further thought, because my frat douche soon to be one night stand had his tongue down my throat, and his hand working its way down my pants. The pleasure receptors in my brain began firing, rousing in me the sought after feeling of invincibility that made all of it—the hangover, the self-loathing, the _reputation _I risked acquiring—worthwhile, when the vibe in the room changed.

There was a charge in the air, but I couldn't tell if it was negative or positive. However, I did know that I couldn't follow through with what I had initiated. I just wanted to get _whatshisname_ off me and the fuck out of that party. I couldn't breath. I needed fresh air. I raised my hands to his chest, attempting to push him away, but he didn't budge. If anything, he gripped me tighter. His mouth left mine, allowing me to greedily gulp some extra and much needed oxygen as he worked his way down, and then back up, the clammy skin of my neck until he reached my ear.

"Don't think you're gonna walk away, you little cocktease. You wanted it so badly two seconds ago," he rasped, and his breath against the shell of my ear no longer caused my stomach to clinch in that pleasant, intoxicating way I craved. A chill washed through me as his lips crashed back into mine.

"Stop! No! I don't want this," I cry, pushing against him, but his lips are moving against mine, and it comes out unintelligibly. One of his hands finds its way into my hair, and he grabs a fistful using it to hold my head in place.

Aware that hyperventilating won't help me out of this situation, I struggle to suppress my rapidly rising panic, but his other hand twists my arm behind me and he's muscling me farther away from where the party is still in swing, and it becomes more difficult to push the panic down. I'm trying to push him away, but his grip on my arm increases and he's shoving it up until it's at an acute angle and the pain causes my struggles to cease immediately.

"This will be more fun for you if you just shut the fuck up and cooperate, because I'll fucking break it-" he shoves my arm up even farther to emphasize his point, "-if you don't quit fighting me. You'll enjoy this, don't act like you won't."

_No, no I won't,_ I want to yell, but I can't draw enough air into my lungs and black spots are swimming before my eyes, threatening to claim me, and I can't have that. I shove my fear aside and just accept what I have coming to me; I _had_ been asking for it, after all. Besides, it wasn't like I could stop him, and who would believe me if I claimed rape. My back slams into a door, pinning my arm between it and my body, and I moan in pain as I feel my shoulder give with a sickening pop.

The Frat-rapist mistakes it for enthusiasm, failing to notice the tears streaming down my face, and he's excited, saying, "Yeah, you like it rough don't you, you little whore? I knew you wanted it."

Bile rises up into my throat, and I find myself wondering how I manage to put myself into bad situations so often, but that thought leads me nowhere and I concentrate on not getting sick instead. I don't want to piss him off anymore, it's bad enough that he's going to force himself on me, I'd like to get out of the situation as little damage as possible, and it won't serve me to incite him into additional violence. Sure, the boys and Charlie taught me how to throw a punch, but fat lot of good the knowledge is doing me now.

Words swirled around my head… _You had it coming. You were asking for it. No one will believe a tramp who sleeps around. _ It was 21st century, not the dark ages. Women today were taught that they always had the right to say no, no matter the regardless of past indiscretions. I had always believed that no woman should have to bear the stigma of shame, being called or made to feel like damaged goods just because some piece of trash forced himself on you. But such is the pervasive nature of those kind of socially ingrained beliefs. It shocked me that caught as I was in a such a situation, those feelings and thoughts would pop up to control my mind, clinging with such tenacity despite my struggles to push them down, revealed just how deeply rooted they were in my head.

A movement over Frat Douche's shoulder pulled me from my musings – part of a stubbly, squared jaw and messy, that same _familiar _hair that I had spied a few moments ago, but it was too dark to tell the exact shade…_besides, messy hair was de rigueur nowadays, and _his_ hair wasn't so slicked down. _I knew the improbability that it was him, but that didn't stop me from wanting it to be him. In self-preservation, or maybe because I was a masochist, my subconscious beat my hope down.

He had once told me he wouldn't be there to catch me every time I fell; he couldn't have been more right had he possessed a crystal ball and Alice's odd gift for predicting things. Everything, that is, aside from him and I. Although, technically, she had been right - we were perfect for each other, and meant to be together - it just somehow escaped her shrewd eyes, and perceptive mind that we actually _were _together…_sort of._ How it did, I hadn't a clue, especially since I couldn't act worth shit.

A flash of light glinted off of one of the few photos on the wall that still had glass in its frame. Cutting across the strangers head, the illumination caused it to gleam a dark bronzy-brassy red shade that made me gasp, and shut my eyes tightly. I held my breath as if by doing so I could suffocate the self-actualized delusion of my shiny-knight wish.

Frat Douche released his painful hold on my hair. Intending to drag me deeper into the dark, uninhabited part of the frathouse…_and even farther away from any hope of rescue_…he reached for the doorknob. He held me in place with his body, pressing me so firmly to the door that it felt as if he were trying to actually embed me in the wood which sent a fiery pain, originating in my shoulder, shooting through me, and I was unable to stop the agonized sob that tore from my chest.

I froze in fearful anticipation of his reaction, and he mimicked me for just a moment before he pushed up my arm up higher behind me, causing the pressure in my shoulder to increase, and the black spots to dance across the backs of my closed eyelids. Bracing myself against the pain, my respiration increased, my panting at nearly hyperventilation level. I bit down on my tongue, choking down the whimper threatening to escape, and tried to breathe. Oxygen was becoming scarcer even though I didn't think I could pull it in any faster, and my body started to sag.

Why had I been fighting so hard to maintain consciousness? I couldn't remember and, just as I was about to float away with the blessedly sweet nothingness, I felt…_nothing_. With Frat Douche no longer holding me up, I slid down the door, settling onto the floor in an ungraceful heap protectively clutching my limp arm to my body. I didn't think to question why he had disappeared so abruptly, I was too relieved to be rid of him, and my ears were ringing so loudly that I couldn't focus on the sounds of around me at first. It was just white noise to match the white pain in my shoulder.

_How the fuck am I always getting myself into these situations,_ I thought for the millionth time. Edwards voice in my head answered me, _Because you act with no regard to your own safety._ My subconscious gave him the finger.

As the pain receded, and my lucidity…_what little I'd had prior to Frat Douche_...returned, relief washed over me. My shoulder was a blistering ache, but with the pressure no longer being maintained, I was certain the damage wasn't nearly as bad as I had feared, but it still wasn't good. Everything felt very surreal, in a 'Lifetime movie, this can't be really happening to me' kind of way, and the mean girl in my head was kickin' it in the balcony with the two old dudes, gigglesnorting over the cliché, cautionary tale I was in the middle of living. My pessimistic side chimed in to let me know that, unlike all those after-school specials, no one was going to come to my rescue, and when I looked around for someone to contradict her, all of the voices in my head started whistling and refused to make eye contact.

Even Shorty wasn't speaking up…_traitorous cunt_. She had drawn the shades of her basement apartments single, tiny window, muttering, _Dude, your on your own. Can't believe the mess you got me into._ I had no one to look to but myself.

I attempted to scramble away – putting as much distance as possible between me and the two dark denim columns that appeared in front of me – but, having nowhere to go, I could do little more than press myself against the door. Still lightheaded, and high on a mixture of fear, adrenaline, cocaine, mushrooms and Bacardi 151, I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapped my one good arm around them while trapping my injured one between my thighs and my chest, and cowered. Watching in simulcast, I was mortified over how low I had let myself fall over a boy who lied to me and treated me like a dirty secret…_that I had allowed it to happen, only increased my self-disgust_.

I couldn't allow myself to get caught up in that shame spiral. Instead, I began sending silent prayers to every deity, saint, demi-god and angel I could think of…_and probably quite a few that I made up_…swearing to become a nun – or at least act like less of a whore – if they would get me out of this relatively unharmed and in one piece, both emotionally and physically. When the person attached to the not columns but legs began to drop down in front of me, I increased the fervency of my prayers, mentally genuflecting, bowing and scraping.

Spectral hands attached to pale forearms floated towards me, causing me to shy away, my head slamming against the door causing them to hesitate and hovering uncertainly in the air above me.

"Bells…? Honey, it's okay…it's just me. No one's going to hurt you. It's okay, I'm here now."

I had really done it now. I had pushed myself so far in my need to hurt him, in my quest prove that I didn't need him, that I was over him, that I had suffered a psychotic break. That was the only explanation that made sense as to why I was imagining him so vividly that if I didn't know better, I would believe that he was truly here in the flesh.

The hands continued floating towards me as I trembled impotently on the floor. And then long fingers wrapped around my upper arms, gripping me firmly, and a spark of familiar electricity jolted through my body, competing for attention with the pain that bloomed in my shoulder upon his touch.

"_Edward?_" I hissed in pain and disbelief.

_No. (Yes.) No. (Yes.) No, no, nonononononono! (Yes, yes, yesyesyesyesyesyes!) _

Realizing I was hurt, he removed his hands, and rocked back onto his heels, putting some distance between us. I felt his eyes – like a caress – roving over my hunched form, assessing my injuries…_already the doctor_…and even without touching, the pulse of the energy still thrummed between us,

_Relief. _

Upon realizing he was really here, my body relaxed and I allowed myself to fall apart. Tears fell, shaking my frame gently, each undulation causing more pain to rock through my shoulder, but it was nothing compared to the pain of seeing him, of him seeing the wasted wreck I'd become. Once I confirmed it was him, I avoided his gaze, not wanting to see the repulsion steal across his face, or the hardening of his eyes before he turned and walked away from me.

We remained like that for several moments. Me – staring at my knees, and holding my breath as I waited to hear him walk away with each imagined tick of the clock in my head. Him – eyes both greedily, and concernedly roaming over my form. I jumped when, instead of hearing his footsteps, I felt his cool hand graze my cheek as he brushed my hair back from my face, and lifted my chin. The tenderness in his eyes stole the oxygen from the room and all the thoughts from my head. _He wanted _her, _not me, so why is he looking at me like I'm water in a desert, and what is he doing here?_

"Bella…" it came out as a sob, his voice breaking halfway through…and I got mad.

_How dare he pity me? Fuck him._

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, the coldness of my voice surprising even me.

He'd seemed nervous, cautious, concerned, _awed, _but now he looked self-conscious, and unsure of how to proceed.

"I - well, I was…. I just never had the chance… Alice misses you!" he blurted.

"And so do I," he continued softly, "but I guess that doesn't really matter. I just – you have to know, I have to tell you – I lo…"

I cut him off. I was drunk and high, had just been manhandled and nearly date-raped…and I didn't want to hear it. Where were those words anytime during the last five years when I desperately wanted to hear them? Fuck him, because it was too little, too late now. Even if it wasn't, he couldn't say it while I was huddled against a closed door in a dirty frat house, drunk and high, with Frat Douche…_oh, my God! Where the hell was Frat Douche?_

"Edward, what happened to Frat Douche? Where is he? I can't…I need to leave." I was certain Edward would protect me, but I _had_ to get out of there. I slid up the door, until I stood unsteadily against it, my bad arm held immobile by my good one. Edward, of course, instantly took note of it.

"Who?" he asked looking puzzled, following my gaze. "Oh…um, he's been dealt with. Can I…?"

His eyes darted back and forth between my shoulder and my face, and his eyes sought permission – which I granted - as his hands carefully moved to my shoulder. I winced from his gentle touch, and whimpered when he palpated the joint staring, but when his thumb dug into a particularly tender spot, I nearly fell over – would have too, if it hadn't been for his lightning fast reflexes. As my knees gave way, Edward's arm was suddenly wrapped around my middle, pulling me against him, and holding me there until he was certain I wouldn't topple.

When he was done, he looked up at me without releasing me, a concerned look on his face. Tired of him looking at me so tender and pensive, I snapped, "Well…?"

Edward looked away from me, shooting an angry glare towards a lump on the floor…_that I assumed was Frat Douche_…on the the far side of the room. Looking back at me, preparing to speak, the V between his brows grew more pronounced as he chose his words. That he was treading so carefully was a sure sign that I wasn't going to like the answer. I braced for whatever he had to say, and reminded myself not to be angry at him for it. Tonight wasn't his fault - not really - it was mine. It's not like I didn't have plenty of shit to be pissed at him for without heaping my stupidity and fucktarded decisions on his shoulders.

"I'm pretty sure that you have a minor subluxation of the shoulder. I could probably put it back in myself, but I think you should go to the hospital. It's going to hurt like hell and, without x-rays, there's no way to know the extent of the damage."

He hadn't finished speaking, before I was shaking my head 'no.'

"Bella, I don't think… You should – I can't… No."

"Edward, you have to. I can't go to the hospital. There would be too many questions about how this happened," I gestured with my chin, indicating my shoulder, "and I am drunk and on drugs and I would lose my grant for school… No hospitals, you do it."

"Bella, I don't think – I don't think I can do it. I've hurt you enough. I can't hurt you any more…especially not like this."

I wasn't above begging. "I'm drunk and high. It will hurt me more, in the long run, if you don't. Please?"

I could practically see the wheels turning in his head, and knew it wouldn't take much more for him to agree. _Just a little push_…

I looked at him dead on. "You owe me. After everything you've done – Edward, you owe me."

_Like putty…_

"Fine, but not here. Your apartment. Let me get you home, and then I'll do it."

Warning bells went off, and beacon fires were lit, but I ignored them, and agreed.

~//~

I thought Angela would be at Ben's tonight, but apparently I was wrong since her door, near the apartment door, was closed. I ignored the small ping of guilt I felt over not being a better friend and roommate to focus on not getting sucked in by Edward's apologetic, hangdog moroseness. _Besides, I was being a good roommate by not waking her in the middle of the night._ We crept across the living area, silent until we were safely ensconced in my room on the other side of the apartment.

I stopped in the center of my tiny room, and turned to see Edward – hands behind his back, looking at the floor and shifting his weight from foot to foot – standing just inside the closed door. He looked like a teenage girl who had just invited a boy to her room for the first time, or one on on prom night just about to lose her virginity and, stifling a snort took charge.

"Right then…so, how do we do this?"

"Huh? What?" His head snapped up, my words startling him out of his daze, and he looked at me, blinking,

"My shoulder?"

"Oh, right. Um, on the bed." He blanched as the words left his mouth, realizing how they could be construed. Composing himself, he slipped into doctor mode, assuming the role with an ease that assured me that he would be brilliant doctor in few years. "I'm need you to lay on the edge of the bed, with the mattress fully supporting you."

I did as told, and Edward crossed the room, coming to stand by my side. He began to position my arm, and by the time he had me positioned the way he wanted – elbow bent with my forearm over my ribs, and my clenched fist held in one hand while his other grasped my elbow – I was nervous.

"Okay, I just need you to stay relaxed. I'm going to gently raise your arm until the humerus slips back into place. It shouldn't take much because it's not fully dislocated, but it's going to hurt…you might want to bite down on a pillow or something." He said the last part awkwardly, the cheek I could see uncharacteristically tinged a faint pink, and I was reminded of another time, alone in a different room, with a pillow muffling my cries.

Only back then, the cries being stifled were from pleasure as Edward bent me over the side of my bed and slammed into me from behind, and the need to keep quiet wasn't due to a sleeping roommate, but because of a gun-toting father watching Sportscenter downstairs while we supposedly 'studied.' A shiver ran up my spine, and I bit my lip in an effort to contain my moan. Our eyes locked when I attempted to – not so surreptitiously – glance at him, and from the expression on his face, I knew we were sharing the same memory. That proof of our connection combined with the proximity of his body to mine, was too much. I looked down at my lap to hide the heat creeping across my skin, happy that I was still biting my lip.

"Can you, um…hand me a pillow then, please?" I asked in a mumble, as I was stretched out across the foot of my bed, and he hastily complied.

"Rea-…" He paused as his rough voice broke, and then clearing it, started again, "Ready?"

Taking my silence as a yes, he began to move my arm. "Wait!" I whisper-shrieked. "Have you ever done this before?"

"No," he said evenly, "but I've observed it a bunch of times, and had it done to me once. I can still take you to the hospital. Do you want me to call a cab?"

"No, no. I trust you…with this. I was just curious. Go ahead."

"Deep breath…out. Again. In…out." The way he breathed with me made me realize that he was just as nervous as me and, while the breathing seemed to calm him, it did nothing for me.

He started to move my arm and I tensed up immediately.

"Isabella," he drawled, a seductive lilt to his voice; it was a tone I used to know so well. The hand that was holding my fist was suddenly gone, and then I felt his fingers trailing teasingly along my forearm, the topside of his hand grazing the underside of my breasts in a manner that I wasn't positive was accidental.

"Close your eyes," he breathed against my ear, once again using that tone that had always made me weak in the knees, and my breath left me in a rush. "Deep breaths."

I did, breathing him in because I was under his spell, and lacking the ability to resist. Then there was pain, and I felt my shoulder slip back. I gasped, and shoved the pillow more firmly against my face, biting down on it to hide my groan. _It hurt like a motherfucker._

I was drunk enough that my muscles hadn't splinted around my shoulder, making the whole thing much easier than it otherwise would have been…not that it was easy. For me, at least. Tears welled up in my eyes from the pain and I panted into the pillow that I was biting hard so hard that I was certain when I released it I would have a mouthful of feathers.

"Bella, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" Edward demanded frantically.

I was so lost in my dueling thoughts of despair over the fact that he had left and then happiness that he was no longer there muddling up my resolve to hate him by being all sweet and rescuing me from wannabe rapist frat douches and getting me home safe and doctoring me up that it never occurred to me that I hadn't heard the apartment door open or close. I wasn't aware that he was still there until he walked through my door carrying a glass of water, a wet washcloth, a deluxe roll of medical tape and a bottle of cheap, generic pain reliever. He brought everything ober th

"Whaddya gonna do with that, Eddie?"

He grimaced at my use of the nickname, but spared me the, 'It's Edward' lecture while I grinned hugely at him.

I wasn't sure if it was the pain, the combination of drugs and alcohol I had imbibed in, or something else entirely kicking in, but I felt completely disconnected from my physical being and…giddy about it.

"Your arm needs to be immobilized. You don't have a sling and, regardless, you're going to going to bed soon. Even if you had one, it wouldn't be useful. So, for now – until you can get a sling – I'm going to tape your arm to your body. After you have the sling, you might still consider doing this for at least the next few days while you sleep. It'll keep you from jostling it while you sleep…you're not exactly the quietest sleeper," he said softly, before adding, "You tend to toss and turn quite a bit at times."

I decided to ignore him, and his stupid reminder that he had seen me sleep, because it reminded me that he had seen me naked, which led to slipping down thoughts of the things he had done to me _while_ seeing me that way.

"Okay, have at it. Tape me up," I chirped, not realizing how suggestive the words sounded until they were out of my mouth. I blanched, and then my face heated up until I was at least eight different shades of hell.

Edward looked away, to his credit and my relief, and pretended to busy himself with the tape. My embarrassment was quickly tempered by my disbelief that he was letting my comment go, and I found myself staring at the back of his head wondering where the cock-sure, 'never met an innuendo he didn't like' Edward that I knew was, because this wasn't him. He turned around – catching me staring and snapping me out of my daze – and for the first time since his sudden appearance at the party, I really saw him. I was appalled.

_He was a hot mess. _

He had more than bags under his eyes, he had a matched set of luggage. The dark blue and purple stood out against his pale-even-for-him skin, making him look ghoulish almost…_but no less beautiful_…and his hair looked like it hadn't been washed in days. Instead of standing up in its usual 'fuck you,' single-finger salute to order, it was flattened to his head, looking almost matted in spots. _What was he wearing? _I couldn't imagine Alice had purchased the crumpled, haphazardly buttoned rags he had on.

As bothersome as all of that was, what I concerned me the most…_and pissed me, because I wasn't supposed to – no, I shouldn't care…I didn't care…I dind't want to_…was the defeated slump of his shoulders, and the sadness that seemed to be etched across his face and **mirrored/reflected** in his eyes.

"You look like shit, Edward!" I declared using all of my usual grace and charm. His shoulders tensed and his jaw clenched.

"So do you!" he replied tersely, his eyes hard and cold. As soon as the words were out, they softened, and he resumed his previously downtrodden **demeanor. **His eyes focused on the on the floor, and his brows were pinched together as if he were in pain. He didn't appear to want to talk about it, and I wasn't supposed to care…_I didn't care_…so I let it go.

"Right. So…tape." _Moving on. _

"Right," he muttered. "Um…I'm going to need – you're going to wan…to, uh, take your shirt off so I can…do this."

"NO!" My answer was instantaneous and vehement. "Just tape over my shirt."

He sighed before replying, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone. "It's not going to stick to your shirt, Bella. I knew I should have just taken you to the hospital," he grumbled angrily to himself.

"I would have let you, had I known that you were going to try to use it to your advantage, and get down my pants. Guess what, Edward? Not. Happening. Not a chance in hell." _**Maybe a small chance. Or Hey, **_**Shorty piped in, **_**she doesn't speak for all of us.**_

"For fuck's sake! I'm not trying to get down your pants. I'm trying to make sure your shoulder doesn't slip back out of place while you sleep."

"Why the fuck should I believe you? It wouldn't be the first time you lied so you could fuck me!"

"I'm not asking you to strip, and let me tie you up, Isabella – not that we haven't done that before and, if I recall correctly, you liked it – I'm asking you to take your fucking shirt off so I can finish treating your injured shoulder. It's not like I'd be seeing anything I haven't seen before."

"Fuck you! You forfeited your right to see me when you fucked that whore and lied to me about it! Fuck you, Edward Cullen, you piece of shit!" I was the livid…incensed, and practically shouting. _How dare he?_

"Keep your voice down, Isabella, unless you _want _to wake up Angela."

I knew he was right – I was acting irrationally – but I couldn't stop myself._ What was about him that caused me to fly off the handle so easily?_ "You don't get to tell me what to do. Not now. Not ever. What are you even doing here? How the hell did you find me? Did Alice tell you? She fucking swore that she wouldn't. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that she lied to me, after all, you're family. Speaking of lying, shouldn't you be in Seattle fucking Tanya?"

Fire flashed in his eyes. "Shut up. You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. I'm not with Tanya. I never was!"

I laughed loudly. "So you weren't fucking her? Right, Edward. Right. So, your brother was just making up the story about you being with Tanya for two years, and no one – not Alice, not Jasper, and not Rose – bothered to contradict him? And, let me guess - SHE just _showed up_ at your parents' house to what? See if you wanted to study? Demonstrate a tonsillectomy with her tongue? Ha! Tell me another one.

"I'm gullible at times, and I can be naïve and too trusting, but I'm not fucking _stupid_!"

"I was fucking Tanya, but I wasn't with Tanya, okay? I admit it! I admitted it in the meadow, and I would have explained that I had no clue why she showed up that afternoon, but you never gave me a chance! She showed up unexpectedly at my apartment that morning while I was getting ready to leave.

"She only wanted one thing, and she wasn't going to leave until she got it, so I fucked her just to get her out of there. And you know what? I realized that I couldn't stand her, that I didn't know what I was doing messing around with her. When I finally got her to leave, I decided I was going to lose her number.

"I spent the entire drive to my Forks trying to decide what to do about us, and I realized that it was time for me to man up and admit that I was in love with you, that I had been for years! Bella – I. Love. You. I'm crazy about you.

"These last six months have been hell without you. I thought I was going to die. I couldn't see you, or hear your voice, or send you a text – I didn't even know if you were okay, because I didn't know where you were…or if you were ever ever coming back…" he trailed off. "Say something, Bella."

"You fucked her the morning you came to Forks?" My voice was shaky with rage, my whole body vibrating with it.

"Is that all you…? Didn't you hear anything else I said? I love you, Bella. I love you!"

"You love me?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him as I stood up and advanced on him. "You love me, you say? You fucked her that morning…in your apartment…before you fucked me? Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?"

His face fell, and I could see his hands trembling as he quickly started backtracking. "Bella, it wasn't like that… It wasn't – it didn't… Fuck! Why the fuck can't I get anything right with you? Every fucking time I try, I manage fuck it up even more.

"I was scared, Bella! Like the pussy I am, I freaked the fuck out over the fact that I was – that _I'm_ – in love with you. Everything I did, I did because I was trying to prove to myself that I wasn't. I was – _am_ – no good for you. I always knew, from the beginning, that it was only a matter of time before I hurt you. I should have never got involved with you, but I did. I knew I should break it off, but I couldn't do it, and I tried…so many times."

I am going to pretend like you didn't just say that about Alice, because you know she didn't tell me. She's been miserable without you...' the edge left his voice, and grew quiter, "we all have. No one besides my parents, mostly my mother, will even speak to me. They all blame your leaving, rightfully, on me."

I gasped and felt my eyes try to take over my face. "You told them?" My voice was rapidly taking on a note of hysteria. "Why the hell would you tell them? Why?"

"I had to. They had pretty much figured things out on their own anyway."

I buried my face in my hands…well, hand. "I can't even imagine what they think of me."

Edward was instantly on his knees by my side.

He told me everything, laid it all out there on the table, naked and bare, exposed…and all I felt was cold. It was too much to process. To have the man you have been in love with for five years tell you that he thought he could fuck you out of his system, and how he had fucked countless other girls in the effort to try feel something for someone other than you…I was gutted and floored. I was numb. I hated him, truthfully, honestly hated him, in that moment.

"Get. Out."

"Bella…n-n-no? Bella, no?" he choked out, shaking his head and reaching for me. He moved towards me, trying to touch me, but I slapped his hands away. "Please, Bella…please, no…"

"Don't touch me. Just go. Get. Out. Now." I wouldn't look at him.

"If that's what you want, then I'll go…just…please call Alice. Don't make her suffer for me again. It's not fair to her, or you."

He turned and started for the door but, before I could even process what he was doing, he turned back to me, clutched my face between his hands…and kissed me.

I'm not talking about a small gentle kiss, I am talking about a kiss that was all explosions and bright light and pure energy and lust and love all wrapped up into one. I was helpless to his assault. He claimed me body and soul, and he met no resistance when he pushed me down to the bed, being careful not to jostle my shoulder. Hands were frantically shoving at clothes, Edward being more successful than my one handed, clumsy fumbles, and he soon had his hand shoved down my half pushed down jeans and the other one inside my mostly unbuttoned shirt grabbing frantically at my still bra covered breast.

I didn't know what to do with all the sensations that were zinging and pinging through my body, carried from the pleasure receptors in my brain, synapsing from one nerve to the other until it the pleasure reached from the very tips of my toes to the end of each individual strand of hair on my head.

I came hard on his fingers, sanity finally returning as I came back to earth, and I realized what we were doing.

"No!" I pushed is hands off of me. "No. Stop. Stop, Edward." I pushed him feebly away, and he didn't fight me.

Panting, eyes wild and lips swollen and still damp from my skin, he asked, "Why? I thought…?"

"That's exactly it, Edward! Just like always, you thought sex would solve everything between us, and it won't. It can't. You more than just broke us – you destroyed us beyond repair. There's nothing that can put us back together again. _Not _all the king's horses, and definitely not all of his men." I tore my eyes from his, and looked at my lap.

"Just go." I whispered.

And he did.

~//~

**A/N:** Aren't you happy I took the extra time and rewrote that? I am.


	4. Chapter 4 Wicked Game

**Disclaimer: **S. Meyer owns all recognizable characters, plots, etc. All lyrics are the property of their owners. Only original content, characters, etc. belongs to author. No copyright infringement intended. Any errors contained herein, are expressly the fault of the authors idiocy, and not her betas.

**A/N: **Quick thanks to Vanessarae, my super awesome beta, and Araeo (miss your face!) for prereading. This is the long ago promised EPOV version of the outtake _Back Against the Wall._ It was also my Fandom4LLS contribution. It's a little early on the west coast, but it's December 2nd in most of the rest of the world.

The next chapter of _New Habits: Bad Habit, Book Two_ is coming. It just needs a bit more polish and a trip to the beta and then it'll post. Hopefully within the next week. My apologies. I wanted it to be right, and it's taken some time to get there.

The lyrics and title are from the song _Wicked Game_ by Chris Isaac.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Wicked Game**

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~∞Ѿ∞~

.

It had only been two weeks since I had been with her—since I had touched her, had my arms around her, been buried inside her—and I craved her. _ Why had I ever started things with her? _I only wanted her more every time I had her. I should have known the first time I took her against that tree in my back yard, that I would never fuck her out of my system, out of my head or out of my…_whatever_.

It had been two, too-long weeks since we'd been together when she walked unexpectedly into that bar with some mangy cur of a _boy._ I sneered the word boy in my head. It struck me, _vaguely_, that I was jealous of some dog I didn't even know, and I knew I shouldn't be—for _numerous_ reasons—but itdidn't matter. It didn't matter who the fuck he was, or that I didn't have a leg to stand on—_cough-Tanya-cough_—or that I had no claim over her, just that she was there on a date with a guy that wasn't me. _God, I was a hypocritical fuck. _

A swell of irrational fury, aimed at Bella, welled inside of me. Trying to abate it by telling myself that she wasn't flaunting him in front of me on purpose, trying to make me jealous, did nothing but make me angrier. It wasn't one of my usual bars—it was some yuppie-filled, trendy sports bar catering to the early-thirties set—so she couldn't have known or even guessed that I would be there, which possibly explained why she was there; it wasn't exactly her scene, either_. _But if that was true, it meant she didn't want me to know. And if that was true, then… Well, I didn't want to think about what that meant.

I told myself, again, that I had no right. In fact, I should have been pleased to see her out with someone else; after all, it was what I wanted to happen—but that thought, too, failed to soothe. Next, I tried to justify my anger. I mean, I had been avoiding my friends and my family just to avoid seeing her. Emmett and Jasper had asked me to grab a drink with them that night, but as much as I wanted to, I wanted to see Bella less, so I had turned them down. Okay, that's not entirely true. My desire to not see Bella was directly proportionate to my need to see her.

Regardless, I told them no. When I grew too antsy to stay home—and Tanya proved to be unavailable—I called up one of the guys from my spring semester study group and asked if he wanted to grab a beer. As Luck would have it, or so I thought at the time, he was on his way to meet some friends to watch the game, and invited me along. It turned out that Luck and Karma—who was out to get me, I was certain—were pretty good friends.

Having successfully avoided Bella for weeks—since our last encounter when things got entirely too…_emotional? Real?_—and I had planned to continue doing so until I either figured out what to say to her or I was forced to see her at the 'end of life as we know it' summer blowout that Alice had organized, whichever came first. Since neither of those things had happened, seeing her then was too soon and something I was entirely unprepared for.

…_the world was on fire_…

A draft of cool air wafted through the room. My subconscious vaguely registered that the front door had opened, allowing someone to enter the bar, and then the familiar rush of energy coursed down my spine. From the moment I first saw her at the Forks Thriftway all those years ago, I'd had this weird, unexplainable hyper-awareness of her, that I'd never felt with anyone else. I knew she was there well before I saw her. All I could think of in that moment was that line from _Casablanca_: "Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine."

I should have known then that I was fucked. _Or more literally, that Bella was fu…_

Sitting at the bar, I hoped that she wouldn't see me or sit near me while simultaneously praying that she would. And because she inspired such diametrically opposed…_everything _in me, I didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed when the pup led her right past my stool at the bar without her spotting me.

…_and no one could save me but you_…

They walked towards the rear of the long, slightly narrow room, and sat down at a table for two while I tried to remain focused on the bantering going on around me, or on the flat screen above the bar—anything other than her, but she consumed me. My every thought, every cell—my very being—were all so attuned to her, that I could barely keep up the pretense of caring about whatever game was on.

I needed to watch her, to see her with this other guy. Did she like him? Was she different with him than she was with me? Was he touching her? _I'll break his fucking face. Bella is mine. _Before I could stop myself, I was already off my stool, intent on doing just that. I managed to get a grip on myself (and not in the pleasurable way) before I did something asinine like walk over there, throw her over my shoulder and take her someplace at least semi-private where I could remind her who she belonged to. Instead, I casually leaned back against the bar, disgusted with myself over my possessive, caveman-like thoughts.

Bella deserved to be in a relationship with someone who could give her everything she deserved, someone who could love her…_someone who wasn't fucking someone else and lying to her about it_…and that _obviously_ wasn't me. I should have been able to let her go, let her have that—because although I might not be capable of loving her (or anyone else, for that matter), I did care about her a great deal—but I just couldn't bring myself to sever things between us. God knows I tried, _was_ trying…I mean, why else had I started things with Tanya?

She _should_ have—was _supposed_ to have—distracted me from Bella. She was exactly my kind of girl—ridiculously sexy, totally uninhibited, down to fuck any time, anywhere, and she didn't pull at me in any way or demand anything from me except for the occasional orgasm. It _should_ have been ridiculously easy to lose myself in her, finally giving Bella her freedom, but it wasn't. Even had I not run into her at the bar, I wouldn't have stayed away from Bella for much longer; I had already been on my way back to her.

Since I had been proving myself incapable of ending things, my plan had been to leave it up to Bella. It was supposed to be simple, I just had to allow her to find out about Tanya, but every time it came down to it…I couldn't follow through. I was selfish, so I kept stringing her along, and somehow, I had let nearly two years pass. It was after what happened the last time I saw her that I decided I had to finally do it. But, like the pansy I was, I decided to avoid the issue altogether by just avoiding her. Until then, it had been working so well.

One of the guys said something about the game, and I replied, allowing myself to get caught up in the generic ribbing and sports small talk for a few minutes, stealing furtive peeks at my…at the woman I couldn't get out of my fucking head. She made me burn for her. _Dude! That is the gayest thing you've ever thought. Just hand her your balls, because it's obvious you don't need them._ Ignoring the emasculating voice in my head, I took a sip of my beer and slyly glanced Bella's direction. I didn't like what I saw.

Already sitting too close for my comfort…_and much too close to be just a friend…_I saw the foolish boy she was with lean closer to her and I went completely still, turned to stone by the incandescent burst of rage. My eyes snapped to her face only to find her eyes on me. I couldn't bring myself to look away to hide the furious expression on my face or the lo…lust in my eyes. _Lust? __Keep trying to convince yourself that's all it is, man._

My mind was chaotic as I looked at her pointedly before severing our eye contact. Promptly setting my beer behind me, I made some crack about having to go take a piss—_I'm gonna go drain the lizard, man_—stalked around the bar towards the secluded, barely lit corridor that housed the bathrooms and waited.

…_it's strange what desire_…

Pacing back and forth like a caged tiger, I knew she would come…_hoped she would come. _ A heavy, rough sigh of relief left my lips when I heard her light footsteps behind me. As I spun around to face her, her presence overwhelming me, I was overtaken by something dark—some deep, primal need—and I had to have her, _own her_, show her she was mine and no one else's. Without contemplating my actions and ignoring the look of shock on her face, I roughly grabbed her arm, dragging her behind me and into the bathroom at the end of the corridor. 

I had her pushed against the door before it had even fully closed, her mouth covered by mine. Almost out of my mind with possessive jealousy, I somehow still had the cognizance to lock the door; no way in hell did I want to be interrupted. _Well, I wouldn't have much minded the pup catching us._ I abruptly dismissed that thought because, chances were, he wouldn't be the one to walk in. We were in the women's bathroom, after all.

Bella's body remained stiff, her hands rigid at her sides, but her lips moved, kissing me back, with an edge of anger that surprisingly matched my own. It was a passionate, furious kind of kiss, but it wasn't enough. I needed to know that she wanted me as badly as I wanted her. That she had missed me as much as I had her. That she was as addicted to me as I was to her. Spurred on by the not getting as much of a response as I wanted, I kissed her harder and, finally, she came to life. Her arms lifted, her hands tearing at my hair as if she would tear it out by the roots, but still I wanted more. _She always made me want more._

"Nice date, Bella?" I queried, keeping my mouth firmly against hers.

She glared at me—as much as one can glare while grinding their mouth against someone else's—and her eyes clouded over with too many swirling emotions to name. Her eyes grew even cloudier and her shoulders slumped…for just a moment, and then they cleared, a defiant gleam replacing the clouds. _There was my feisty girl._ I felt a shiver pass through me as she pulled my bottom lip into her mouth, tugging on it with her teeth.

The shiver turned into a shudder as I felt a stinging pain followed by the distinctive metallic tang of blood on my tongue. _The fuck?_ Bella had chomped down on my bottom lip like it was a fucking snack. I hissed.

My hand flew to her hair, latching onto a chunk of it and yanking down while my eyes demanded that she let go. She did, gently touching her tongue to the mark before sucking it back into her mouth and releasing it with a pop.

"Best in years, Eddie-boy," she purred seductively, a devious, slightly malicious gleam in her dark eyes.

…_will make foolish people do_…

Another hot wave of anger crashed over me, and I went under, tumbled ass over teakettle until I didn't know up from down.

"I didn't like seeing you out with that mutt, Bella," I snarled, forcing my knee between her legs and pressing my thigh against her sex even as I tried to fight my way back to the surface. I began to slowly drag it back and forth and the reaction of her body was my North Star, helping me get my bearings and break through the fury drowning me.

…_I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you_…

I smirked at her. "See, your body knows it belongs to me. Now your mind just needs to realize it. You are mine, Isabella."

It was all too easy to read the emotions playing plainly across her face as she struggled with the desire to deny my words. She could deny it all she wanted; we both knew it would be a lie. She gave up sooner than I thought, surprising me by grabbing my dick and squeezing it just shy of painful. A strangled noise tore from my chest and my eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head.

She used my momentary distraction to reverse our positions and then attacked me. Her hands were everywhere and I gave in momentarily, letting myself be swept along with the current of her desire. She rose up on her toes, her warm breath against my ear before taking it softly between her teeth. I tensed; slightly worried after the bite she'd given me just moments before. _That shit hurt._

Keeping her teeth on me, she whispered, teasingly smug, "Who owns who now, Eddie?"

I was frozen, her words entirely too close to implying the feelings I was fighting for her, the feelings I'd always been denying having for her…_the feeling I knew I couldn't feel for her_. She released my ear, and then stiffened. Her jaw was tight and her teeth clenched as she continued speaking. "I. Am. Not. Yours. I can do whatever, and whomever I want, whenever I want to. So this jealousy bullshit stops now…or this thing—with us—is over."

I expected her to leave after so effectively putting me in my place—her words, 'or _this thing with us is over_, not quite sinking in. I was so trapped by my shame and my battle to deny what I felt for her that I wouldn't have fought on it, but she didn't. Instead, she confused me further by grabbing two handfuls of my shirt and slamming me forcefully into the door, growling, "And right now, I want you."

I didn't—couldn't—react when her hands went to work on my belt. I stood completely still when her clever fingers moved on to my jeans, plucking the button free and sliding the zipper down. And when she tugged my jeans and boxers down, I was as docile as a newborn lamb. But when her skin accidentally grazed my newly-freed dick...the smug bastard I had been when I'd first pulled her in there returned.

It was as if I'd been jolted by a defibrillator. I sprang into action, spinning and pinning her in the corner, trapped by the sink, the wall and me. Skirt shoved up around her waist, panties securely in my pocket, I smugly gazed at her in all her dishabille; she was right where I wanted her. I must have looked a bit too pleased with her predicament because her chin came up defiantly and she took a deep breath, slightly squaring her shoulders, as if preparing for battle. I straight shut that shit down, daring her like I was Clint Eastwood to try it. _Do you feel lucky, punk? _She didn't.

With a cocky smirk, I teasingly slid my hands down her body, making it a point to keep my eyes on her and rub in how much control over her I had. Almost to her knees, I stopped and hoisted her up, holding her against the wall with my body to free one hand so I could be like Moses…and guide myself to the holy land.

_Oh, fuck!_

All my smugness and internal rambling were halted the second I was, once again despite my best efforts, fully ensconced inside of her. _So tight. So wet. So fucking good. Every. Fucking. Time._

Reflexively, I pulled out and plunged sharply back in. Bella's gasp brought me back to my senses and I stilled, not wanting it to be over too soon. She apparently wasn't of the same mind. She wiggled in my arms and rocked against me, trying to both encourage me to move and find the friction she needed without having to ask for it. When that wasn't enough, she took what she wanted, locking her legs around my middle and drawing me in even further. We both stilled this time, savoring the feeling, the calm before the storm, and then it was all push and pull, in and out consuming us.

I was rough with her—unconscionably so. I channeled my confusion, torment, anger, and just…_everything_ she made me feel into it, and Bella accepted it all, even returning some of the aggression. If she hadn't been the cause of my twisted-up emotions, sex with Bella would have been the best therapy; but as it was, I knew that the relief I felt while inside her would disappear, leaving me more fucked up once we finished.

Despite how aggressive we both were, or maybe because of it, there was an intensity to our lovemaking that was overwhelming me. It only got worse when I looked into her eyes, causing my knees to give out, nearly sending both of us to the ground. I flung my hand to the side and grabbed onto the counter to keep us from falling, but I was still too shaky to feel capable of holding her up, light as she was. No way in hell was I stopping, though.

Deciding that the counter would have to do, I turned towards it only to ram my shin into a short garbage can against the wall that I hadn't noticed. With a gentle nudge from my foot, it went flying across the room. With the garbage can out of my way, I sat Bella on the edge of the counter, and promptly collapsed over top of her, my hand against the toilet partition being the only thing keeping me from squishing her completely under my weight.

Our new position was slightly awkward, and forced Bella's hands to leave my neck, having to move behind her to support herself over the sink. It may not have been the most comfortable place to have sex, but I was so deep inside of her with each thrust and the angle had me rubbing up against all the right places inside her. From the way she constricted around me, I knew Bella felt it, too, and I was grateful. Between the feel of her surrounding me, the look in her eyes and the sounds she was making, I didn't think I was going to be able to last much longer.

I wasn't ready for it to be over just yet, and I wanted Bella to come first, so I slowed my pace a bit, trying desperately to hold on.

"Oh, God. S'good. Ahhh! Edward, please," she begged, obviously not happy that I was holding her impending orgasm at bay, but I was a vain, desperate motherfucker and suddenly needed to hear her say the words, to beg me for it.

"Sssssss…'please' what, Isabell-ungh!-la? Say it."

She glared at me, but the needs of her body far outweighed her stubbornness, and she cried out the words I wanted to hear…not a moment too soon. "Make me…make me c-c-cum, please!"

Her reward was almost instantaneous as I immediately sped back up, my thrusts hard, deep and demanding.

…_and I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you_…

Bella was always beautiful, but she was never more stunning or alluring than she was when she completely lost herself in the throes of an orgasm, and this time was no exception. I couldn't take my eyes off her as all of her defenses came down and she rode out her pleasure. Her eyes closed, and her head fell back as her muscles seized up and she pulsed around me, her voice breaking as she called out my name. "Yesssssssss, Ed-ward!"

…_no, I don't want to fall in love_…

"I love y…love yo…" So entranced by her, the words were out before stop myself. I stumbled over them—my heart trying to get its message out, and my head trying to prevent it—as my orgasm and fear caused my body to seize up. The sound of her breath hitching dashed any hope I had of her being too distracted by her own orgasm to have heard me.

…_(This world is only gonna break your heart)_…

I needed a minute, time to think—rational thought and deductive reasoning weren't exactly easy to come by while I was spilling my seed into her and panicking—so I wrapped my arms around her and hid my face against her shoulder as I rode out my orgasm. As I approached the end and the fog started to clear out of my head, I said the only thing I could think of to hopefully salvage the situation, "I love…oh God, you feel so good, _so_ fucking good, Bella. I love fucking you."

…_with you_…

Like the pussy I was, I kept my face buried in her shoulder. I didn't need to look at her face to know how much I had just destroyed her. I could feel it in the tense lines of her body, and it nearly killed me to know that I'd caused her even an ounce of pain. Really though, you'd think it wouldn't have bothered me any more. Not after all the times I had knowingly hurt her in the past.

Burying myself inside her one last time as the last of the now-empty pleasure pumped out of me, I shuddered from the agony I had just caused both of us. I hated this, but it was for the best. Better to hurt her now than absolutely destroy her in the future; I wasn't good for her or anyone.

In a sudden epiphany, I realized that my little slip up could be used to my advantage. I didn't want to do it, but I knew that this was the perfect opportunity to enact plan 'Make Bella Loathe Me Before I Destroyed Everything Good In Her'. _Yeah, I suck at naming things, but it's still better than Operation Enduring Freedom. _

…_what a wicked game to play_…

The pain I felt as I rationalized hurting her combined with the agony of knowing this was goodbye caused my knees to give out beneath me, and I stumbled into the door behind me with Bella still in my arms. I slid down it, coming to rest with Bella in my lap on the dirty floor (my hastily half-tugged up jeans keeping my ass from making contact with it, thank fuck).

I was disgusted with myself. A dirty bathroom floor was probably exactly where I belonged.

…_to make me feel this way_…

Making no move to get up, I clung to her, not ready to let her go. Bella, on the other hand, couldn't seem to get away from me fast enough, fighting her way free of my arms and running towards the bathroom stalls almost the second we came to the floor. I scrambled to my feet just after her, but by the time I was standing, she had already disappeared into the handicap stall.

I was torn, wanting to go to her and to take back my heartless words…_I love fucking you_…but I forced myself to stick with my plan to sever our ties; it had to end now. As I redressed, I consoled myself with the thought that without me in the picture—in her pants or her bed—she would finally be free to move on. Maybe even with the pup waiting for her in the bar. The thought of someone touching her—_anyone_—was enough to make me want to take it all back, but I didn't. I was doing this for her. Still, it didn't feel right leaving things like that.

…_what a wicked thing to do_…

My mouth opened a dozen times, wanting to say something—_anything_—to make it easier on the both of us, but I knew if I said a word, I would only end up begging her forgiveness and I couldn't do that. In the end, I said nothing. I simply clenched my jaw shut, unlocked the door, and went back to the bar like nothing had happened. Like I didn't just crush the person most important to me in world.

…_to let me dream of you_…

I refused to look at her as she made her way back to the table where the dog waited for her, therefore, I didn't see the small smile she gave him when she sat down, or read her lips when she spoke to him…_sorry, long line in the bathroom_…and I didn't notice the lack of conviction behind her blatant lie.

…_what a wicked thing to say_…

I turned around, leaned back against the bar exactly as I had before I'd left for the bathroom, and pretended to not be interested in the interaction of the young _couple_…_just thinking the word made me sneer_…at the rear of the bar; acted as if I didn't see the way she was slamming back her drinks. I even thought I was doing a good job of it, too.

"How do you know her?" Tanner, the guy from last semester's study group asked as he settled beside me, mirroring my position, and took a swig from his bottle of beer.

…_you never felt this way_…

"Um…k-know who?" I stupidly returned. I quickly turned around and lean over the bar on my elbows, my hands braided together and resting against my forehead with my thumbs pressing into my temples.

Tanner stared at me long and hard with _'Really?'_ written all over his face, not looking away until he had my attention. "Dude, you just disappeared into the bathrooms for twenty-five minutes with her."

_Twenty-five minutes? Really? Her date had to have noticed, but obviously hadn't said anything. Huh? _Curiosity got the best of me, so I turned back around, once again resuming my previous position. Tanner was staring at me and I remembered that I hadn't responded yet, so I lied. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about. I took a leak and made a phone call to see about making this less of a sausage-fest."

He appeared thoughtful for a moment, and then grinned wryly. Wiping his hand over his mouth he said, "Okay, Cullen. I'll let it go, but…I wasn't the only one who noticed…" He trailed off, looking pointedly at the mutt with Bella.

"If you want to talk…" he offered before turning back to the game, and trading insults with a couple of his buddies while I contemplated what he'd told me with a frown on my face.

…_what a wicked thing to do_…

_Why the fuck would he still be waiting for her, looking totally unconcerned, knowing that she probably just fucked me in the bathroom? _There was only one reason I could think of, and it didn't make me feel less like punching his face in. _Does he think she's easy? That she'll put out for him just because she put out for me while on a date with him? Does he think he can twist this in his favor – guilt her into it because I couldn't keep my hands or my dick to myself? _My thoughts were heading a dangerous direction that was only going to end with me in jail or a hospital…_and not as the doctor._

…_to make me dream of you_…

Bella finished another drink and was immediately served another, causing my temperature and concern to shoot up to threat level orange…_or purple or pink_…_I don't know alert levels, ask Dick Cheney for specifics, but it was really high_. Nothing good came from Bella drinking while angry or emotional and, having kept track of her drinks, I knew that was drink number one-too–fucking-many, but there was nothing I could do about it. I knew damn good and well that any interference from me at that stage in the game would do more harm than good. _Plus, it's none of your concern—she's none of your concern,_ nagged a voice in my head.

…_no, I want to fall in love_…

Scowling, I continued to watch them as they chatted away, chuckling and smiling without a care in the world—at least, he was. Bella had turned in her seat, putting her back to me, so I couldn't get a good read on the situation. I wanted to know if she was receptive to the moves he was obviously making, and just because he looked like things were going well, didn't mean they really were. Either way, I didn't like the way he was looking her up and down. It was really starting to piss me off. _Hey, fuckhead! Keep your eyes on her face. _

…_(this world is only gonna break your heart)_…

Bella sipped on her newly-delivered drink and shifted again in her chair, her face coming back into view. Casually, but I'm fairly certain knowing I was watching, she suddenly asked, just loud enough, "Do you wanna get out of here?"

…_with you_…

As if she had said jump, the pup was only too eager to ask how high. He practically tripped over himself in his rush to the bar to take care of the tab while Bella headed outside, snagging a smoke from some guy by the front door as she passed. Without thinking, I made to follow her—earning a violent glare from Bella—only to be stopped by Tanner. _I hadn't even known he was still paying attention. _I stared down at his hand wrapped around my forearm with a clenched jaw.

…_the world was on fire and no one could save me but you_…

"Bad idea, Cullen," he said under his breath, not looking at or acknowledging me in any way.

"What the fuck, Tanner?" I muttered angrily.

"You going out there is only gonna end badly. Just let her go, man. After all…it's not like you know her."

"Right. Whatever," I growled, trying to burn a hole in the door with my glare.

…_it's strange what desire will make foolish people do_…

I couldn't keep my eyes from flickering over to the pup, laughing and joking with the bartender while he cleared up their tab…_probably thinking he was going to get some_…while Bella was standing outside the bar in the dark. _He's just gonna fuck around, taking forever and leave her standing outside by herself?_ _What the fuck was his damage?_ I was about to bolt outside to assure for myself that she was safe—Tanner be damned—when the asshat finally put his wallet back in his pocket and headed towards the door.

…_I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you_…

To my relief, Bella was right in front of the entrance when it opened. But that relief turned out to be a double-edged sword as I was forced to watch as she all-but-launched herself towards the pup, wrapping her arm around his and pressing herself close against his side. Fury overwhelmed me. I pushed myself away from bar, intent on ripping off the dog's arm and beating him with it for having the audacity to touch _my _girl. Tanner's arm shot out, clotheslining me at the level of my sternum hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs.

"Sorry, you looked like you were about to do something really stupid. Just let her go, man."

Gasping and wheezing, feeling half-crazed with the need to go after her, I looked from his arm back to the swinging-closed door, catching a devastating glimpse of her in profile as she angled her face towards him with a soft smile on her face. _No! That smile is reserved for quiet moments with me; it's mine! _I blindly reached for Tanner's arm, seeking to remove it from my body or his, whichever would get me to Bella_._

…_and I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you_…

At the last possible second, Bella turned her head, her switchblade-like eyes seeking mine. Upon finding them, she leveled me with such a ball-shriveling look of disdain and disgust that I was certain I'd never be able to reproduce. It may have just been the lingering effects from having my sternum crushed, but I felt it like a physical blow, staggering back and crumpling against the bar, any urge I had to follow her, eviscerated.

…_(this world is only gonna break your heart)_…

I'd wanted to push Bella away, so why didn't finally achieving that goal feel like success?

I'd gotten what I wanted, but I certainly didn't want what I'd gotten.

…_nobody loves no one._

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~∞Ѿ∞~

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**A/N:** If you've never seen it, and even if you have, do yourself a favor and google the music video. One of the sexiest videos of all time. A perfectly tousled, nearly nude Helena Christensen cavorting and writhing around on the beach in slow motion with Chris Isaac all filmed in black and white. Closeup shots of lips grazing and slick skin gliding . . . I can't do it justice. Just go watch watch.


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